Raise You
by PensievePrince
Summary: Set during Deathly Hallows. Slight AU, mostly canon-compliant except for a main character's survival and their potential developing romantic relationship. SSHG. The Trio are in the Shrieking Shack, about to watch Severus Snape die at the fangs of Nagini. Or are they...? It helps to have friends in high places. Probably a pick'n'mix of book and film canon, as suits my whims.
1. Chapter 1

**Raise You**

**Chapter One**

Once they were certain that Voldemort and his serpentine familiar had left the shack, Harry, Ron and Hermione emerged white-faced from their hiding place to approach the professor. Face equally ashen, albeit splashed with ugly streaks of his own blood, Snape lay slumped in a heap against the wall and was making a stomach-churning, gurgling, rasping noise. Tears rolled silently down Hermione's face for reasons that she couldn't quite place, but ascribed to the shock of what they'd just witnessed. Harry moved closer and knelt next to the Potions master, who suddenly seemed to realise he had company. The pitch black eyes seemed to Hermione to shine brighter as he realised exactly who it was had found him. Surely not because he believed Harry and his friends would rush to save him, given their previous history together? Eventually, Snape seemed to summon the strength to speak, and wispy streams of memories started to flow from his mouth, ears and eyes.

'Take... them... Take... them...'

Hermione conjured a flask and passed it to Harry, who collected the memories carefully. Not exactly how they'd imagined their final encounter might go - Snape didn't laugh in their faces, gloating in his dark master's seeming newfound omnipotence; didn't sneer or insult them. Instead, he looked straight at Harry, and spoke in a voice so full of emotion that she wasn't quite sure it was actually Snape talking.

'You have your mother's eyes.'

The cogs of her mind churning in overdrive as ever, Hermione pieced together the bits unsaid in between the professor's words. They knew of course, that Snape and James Potter had something of an antagonistic history, but despite being in the same year at school, so far as she was aware Snape had never used his Muggle-born mother as ammunition against Harry. Had never even mentioned it in passing, even. Maybe he hadn't known everyone in his year that well - there were a couple of seventh year Hufflepuff boys that Hermione knew the names of but had never really struck up conversation with at all while at school - but given how close Lily had gotten with the Marauders, it would have been odd that Snape would have had no contact with her.

Several people over the years had made the observation that Harry's eyes matched his late mother's - perhaps in a bid to reassure the boy of some link with Lily seeing as most people usually noticed his striking resemblance to James first. But why should such a thing matter to Snape, especially at a time as dire as this? Hermione knew a few healing spells but nothing that would make much of a difference in a situation this severe, and she'd used the last of the Dittany. Short of having Madam Pince and an army of Healers tramp through the door in the next minute or so, it looked very much like he was about to die.

'You loved her, didn't you?' Hermione burst out, still unable to restrain herself when it came to problem-solving. Snape's dark gaze flicked from Harry's face to hers, as if he'd only just noticed there were other people in the room.

'Lily... I-'

Another round of rasping gurgles interrupted what he was trying to say. Hermione darted forward past Harry and knelt at the professor's side. Cradling the side of his face in her hand gently, she addressed him in barely more than a whisper.

'She'd be very proud of you, thank you. You've done a great job.'

And then on impulse she leant in even closer, not caring that the boys were watching, only thinking of easing the distress of a dying man, and planted a gentle but firm kiss to his lips. She wasn't sure if he was conscious enough at that point to register what she was doing; as she sat back, his only response was to blink at her, and then the wizard let out a tired-sounding sigh and closed his eyes. Blinking furiously herself to try and hold back the fresh round of prickling tears that were threatening to spill down her face, Hermione drew back and stood up, linking hands with the boys and taking in the sight in front of them.

Suddenly there was a great flash of fire and they all jumped in alarm. Hermione stifled a scream. Perhaps Voldemort had cast some sort of curse that would incinerate his victim's body as a final degradation? But then the flames subsided as instantly as they had appeared, and in their place stood a very familiar-looking bird...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

'Fawkes!' Hermione exclaimed. They hadn't seen Dumbledore's familiar - to the best of their knowledge nobody had - since the Headmaster's funeral the previous year. Ignoring the three students, the phoenix hopped closer to Snape and leaned in over him. She realised what the bird was about to do, and why he had come. Crooning softly to himself, Fawkes blinked sadly with his head directly over the most severe of Snape's bloody wounds and let fall a couple of crystal-clear tears. Harry was still standing there dumbly, clutching the vial of memories and trying to process what had happened in the last couple of minutes. Ron however, lunged forward and shouted, 'No! He's a Death Eater! He killed Dumbledore!' Hermione gripped his hand tighter and pulled him back away from the phoenix and his patient.

'Leave them Ron, trust me. Fawkes was loyal to Dumbledore, he doesn't owe anyone his allegiance now he's gone. Do you really think a phoenix would help someone it didn't want to? I think he's repaying a debt from Dumbledore to Snape. He's earned Fawkes' loyalty.'

'Have you completely fallen off your broom, Hermione?! Harry saw him _murder_ Dumbledore in cold blood, remember!' Ron's face now nearly matched his hair, his expression contorted in anger. Harry was still staring confusedly, conflicted.

Fawkes had cried a few more tears over Snape's nastier wounds, and while Hermione couldn't see the extent of the damage under the professor's dark robes, she thought there was the odd glimpse of pale, healing skin through the rents in the fabric, instead of a bubbling flow of red. The bird finally hopped backwards a couple of steps, cocked his head at Snape in assessment, and then abruptly disappeared in another flamboyant flash of fire. For a second they all just stood and stared at the blank space in the room where the phoenix had just been, and then a loud, spluttering cough broke the silence.

'Professor!' Hermione dropped the boys' hands and darted forward again. Snape's chest had started heaving laboriously and his eyes shot open.

'Miss... Granger...' Although he was clearly still weak, he now seemed more aware of his surroundings than he had previously. 'Are you... going to... kiss me... again?'

Hermione flushed a deep beetroot red, glad that she had her back to Ron and Harry.

'Um, no sir. Sorry sir, I-'

Snape sighed. 'Shame...'

She was now certain that even her hair was blushing, and started wiping imaginary dirt off her hands onto her jeans. Perhaps he _was_ still in a haze of delirium after all!

'I...'

'Miss Granger...'

'Yes, sir?'

'There's no time... to waste... We have... a wizard... to kill...'

With that, he stretched out an arm and braced himself on the filthy floor with a pale hand. Testing his strength so he didn't immediately topple over, Snape pushed himself up, boots gripping the rotting floorboards until he was fully on his feet. He now towered over them all again, even Ron, and Hermione suddenly found him a lot more imposing than when he'd been a vulnerable heap on the ground. Snape addressed Harry, who still looked undecided on how he felt about the Potions master but had clearly heard Hermione's deduction regarding the older wizard's loyalty towards his mother. Poor Harry, she thought. Yet another piece of his past to torment him.

'Mr Potter. You won't be needing those memories as I can provide you with the information myself.' Snape held out a shaky hand in the direction of the swirling flask in the boy's hand to take it back. Seeing that Harry was still not entirely trusting of the headmaster, he rolled his eyes and sighed. 'Never mind. Very well. The information you require is in those memories. I would appreciate if you would be... discreet... regarding the contents. Especially at the present moment. But it is vital we push on. There must still be three or four Horcruxes to be destroyed before we confront the Dark Lord himself.'

'There's only one left now, Professor. We think it's Nagini.' Hermione winced slightly at the thought of the enormous serpent who had so recently tried to violently murder Snape, but if he were bothered by the mention then it didn't show on his face. We've destroyed the locket with the sword of Gryffindor. Thanks for that by the way - it was you in the forest, I'm guessing? The goblin Griphook told us you put the fake sword in the Lestrange vault.' Hermione declined to mention the silver doe that had so conveniently led Harry to the sword. Clearly Snape's feelings for Lily Potter ran very deep indeed! Snape's only response was a brusque nod, so she continued with the list. 'Hufflepuff's Cup and Ravenclaw's Diadem are gone too, plus the diary and the ring. So if he split his soul into seven, then that just leaves one.'

This time, Snape _did_ flinch a little. 'Very well. Ahem. You've all been very busy, I'm impressed. Right, Mr Weasley - you and Miss Granger should rejoin your family up at the castle. Mr Potter, you need to come with me to Dumbledore's office and use the Pensieve. Did any of you see where my wand went?'

While the boys alternately gawped and scowled at him, Hermione flicked her wand around the room and said, 'Accio Professor Snape's wand!' The ebony shaft flew out of a darkened corner and landed in her outstretched hand. Running her thumb over the handle's intricate carving absently, she held it out to him. Accepting it, he eyed the boys to make sure they weren't going to get trigger-happy at the sight of their nemesis being rearmed, before stowing it safely up his long sleeve.

'Thank you, Miss Granger. Now I-' He was cut off abruptly as a disembodied voice filled their ears. The hissing sound of Lord Voldemort filled the room, as he issued Harry with a magically-amplified ultimatum. As his last words rang through the shack, Snape drew in a deep breath and straightened up to his full height. 'This changes nothing. The snake is with him, and we need to kill them both. Come!' Striding past them, he headed for the tunnel that led back to the Whomping Willow.

Harry and Ron turned to each other and shrugged. 'I dunno. I got no better ideas mate.' Ron mumbled. Harry shot him a weary grin. 'He still seems like a jerk, but at least he looks like he knows what he's doing I guess. If Fawkes saved him, I suppose he _must_ be on our side? And Hermione seems pretty convinced too. She always seems to know the answers to things no one else can figure out!'

Patting Harry on the back, Ron turned and made his way towards the tunnel as well. Harry and Hermione followed after him. Once they were back on school grounds, they picked their way up the path towards the castle, encountering no resistance due to the cease-fire that Voldemort had issued, other than the occasional confused acromantula which had been left behind by its brothers and sisters. Snape blasted them dispassionately away with practiced flicks of his wand as he led the way. Even with robes tattered and torn, and covered in his own drying blood, watching his silhouette in the dawn light, Hermione thought he looked rather majestic. Every inch the Half-Blood Prince indeed.

* * *

When they reached the main entrance, Snape halted abruptly and turned to them. 'I cannot at this moment in time walk into the Great Hall filled with people who believe me a traitor and a murderer. And I can no longer rejoin the Dark Lord's forces to work from the inside either - I fear I have rather outlived my usefulness in this fight for the while. Weasley and Miss Granger, you should regroup with the rest of the Order. Mr Potter and I have business elsewhere.'

Hermione touched the back of his arm gently. 'I understand. But we'll try to put the word out that you're on our side, if you like? Starting with the other members of the Order. They know how much you've done to help the cause...'

'Too kind Miss Granger, as usual. Don't fret if your efforts are unsuccessful though. I have every intention of confronting the Dark Lord himself when the time comes, and I doubt very much if I shall come out the other side of it alive, so my popularity with the rest of the wizarding world is not that important in the scheme of things.' He nodded at her in solemn acknowledgement. 'Mr Potter, let's go - there's no time to waste while we have a lull in the battle.'

Slipping in through the heavy oak doors which were scorched and pock-marked with signs of fighting, they split into two groups: Ron and Hermione peeling off towards the Great Hall; Snape and Harry heading up the nearest moving staircase in the direction of the Headmaster's office. Harry caught a brief glimpse as the Hall doors had opened, of a shock of bright pink hair belonging to a body lying on a stretcher near the entrance, and his heart sank at the thought that Tonks had fallen victim to the Death Eaters and their allies. He hoped Lupin was okay. Falling into step silently behind Snape, the pair arrived at the office door. Snape spoke a single word, 'Dumbledore', and the gargoyle admitted them to the room beyond.

Harry was surprised to see that despite Albus Dumbledore having been gone for nearly a year, the room still looked almost exactly as it had when he had run the school. His nameless silver instruments still sat on tables, spinning and whirring and chiming away seemingly at random, and Harry had the fanciful idea that perhaps since Fawkes had made an unexpected return, maybe his owner might step out of the shadows and say, 'Don't worry Harry my boy, you don't have to do anything else. I'll take it from here and finish Voldemort myself.' But of course he didn't. Instead, Snape merely pointed towards the stone basin that housed the Pensieve and grunted at him.

'Go on then.'

Stepping up to the dish, Harry pulled out the vial of Snape's memories, poured them in, and lowered his face into the swirling mass...

* * *

**A/N:** So I was _supposed_ to be working on my fluffy little vignette set when the trio are on the run in Grimmauld Place in DH - inspired by a single image of Snape watching Hermione while she sleeps. That's now 6k+ words long, at which point I started a little drabbly fic as a distraction, based on another single scene which I thought would be funny: Snape's dying in the Shrieking Shack, our resident bleeding heart gives him a kiss as his life ebbs away. _Pop!_ Fawkes appears, cries a few tears, Snape wakes up hunky dory, staring a very embarrassed Hermione right in the eye. Cue '_Well this is embarrassing..._' However that ran away with me a little bit and has turned into just over 7k words at the moment, the first couple thousand or so you've just read, with more to come! I read all my work through multiple times before posting, even though it's still a work in progress, but I have no beta so feel free to point out any mistakes, big or small, and I'll gladly edit.

This was originally titled, rather lamely 'A Shriek in the Shack', but I renamed mid-draft after being inspired by Fall Out Boy's song 'The Phoenix'. Didn't want to put the whole lyric as the title to try and keep a tiny bit of mystery before the end of the first chap though :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

What felt like hours, but could have been mere seconds later, Harry re-emerged. Snape was still stood to one side, eerily motionless and silent, as if he'd been hit with a Body-Bind.

'So now you know.'

Clearly Snape already knew what he had seen. Harry's mind reeled as he struggled to process everything he'd been shown. Snape did indeed seem to have sworn his loyalty to Dumbledore due to his long-standing relationship with Harry's mother. They were so close to defeating Voldemort! And none of it mattered. At least, not really. Not to Harry. Because he had to die - Snape had known it. And Dumbledore had known it. And they'd protected him, and taught him, and kept him ignorant... All to get to this moment.

'Right. Well I suppose that's it then. I'd better go and surrender before we run out of time. Before anyone else dies.' Harry felt curiously detached.

'Shall I go with you?' Snape asked, neither pleading nor dismissive.

'No. It's okay. You're more help here. You can still be useful if the fighting starts again. You still have to take out Nagini, you've got a score to settle.'

In truth, Harry didn't want to go alone, but Snape wasn't even close to being the first person he would have chosen to accompany him for his final moments, loyalty notwithstanding. No - it was better that Harry's death meant something. If he and Snape both got themselves killed at Voldemort's hand then it would all be on Hermione and Ron to finish the Horcrux hunt, and that was the last thing he wanted to leave them with. Snape didn't push the issue, merely nodded at Harry and moved around to the other side of Dumbledore's (or perhaps more accurately until his recent dismissal, his own) desk, and settled down in the chair, opening the top draw and rifling efficiently through it for something.

'Very well. Go well, Mr Potter...' Standing up again, Snape approached him and pressed a piece of paper into his hand. Harry looked down to see a tattered picture of his mother, torn along one edge, as she beamed up at him. 'She'd be very proud of you, Harry. I know I am.' And with that, he turned abruptly and went to the nearest bookshelf, and started poring over the spines.

'Thank you, sir.' Harry took another look at the photo before tucking it into his pocket and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He took the Invisibility Cloak out of another pocket and unfurled it over him, slipping down the stairs back to the Entrance Hall and out of the castle for the last time. He made his way to the Forbidden Forest as Voldemort had instructed, and when he found the Death Eaters' encampment, stepped out into the clearing...

* * *

The survivors in Hogwarts were still tending to their wounded when they saw a battalion of Death Eaters making their way towards the castle. They had all been horrified to realise that Hagrid was holding Harry's body.

Voldemort proceeded to gloat to his opponents over his victory against Harry, and offered them a chance to defect to his side in return for being allowed to live. When Neville had stood up to the dark wizard, Voldemort had placed the Sorting Hat on his head and set it on fire. All of a sudden, there came a loud shout from the castle.

'_Enough!_'

Everybody looked round to see where the voice had come from, and both sides were astonished to see Severus Snape emerging from the entrance door: cloak billowing and wand raised, pointed at Voldemort, who bared his teeth in a grimace of rage before addressing his former spy.

'Severus! Ah, I'm a little surprised to see you... _alive_.'

The crowd parted as Snape strode through them into the courtyard, not wanting to get in either wizard's way.

'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast you into oblivion?!' Snape bit back at him.

'You must understand, Severus... It wasn't personal. You were merely a means to an end. Although as I am the stronger wizard anyway, it matters little whether you're dead or not - I defeated you, and am therefore the wand's true master.' If any of the people observing were confused by this impromptu discussion on wandlore then nobody said anything.

'No, _you_ must understand - _my lord_ \- that it doesn't matter what you believe. Dumbledore and I orchestrated this whole thing. His death. The ownership of the Elder Wand. The destruction of your Horcruxes. Potter's death.' He couldn't look at the body in Hagrid's arms, but he noticed Voldemort's gaze flick down momentarily toward Nagini. 'We arranged it _all_. And now, we can kill you. Your reign of terror ends here.'

With a sneer, Voldemort raised his wand against Snape just as the latter cast a flurry of spells towards his former master.

'Finish him, Nagini!' Just as the huge snake lunged back towards the Potions master for the second time that morning, another yell came from behind Severus.

'_Dumbledore's Army_!'

Neville came charging past, ripping the Sorting Hat from his head and withdrawing from it somehow, the sword of Gryffindor, which quite frankly Snape would have been happy to have never seen again until now. With a loud "swish" that sounded far too close for comfort, Neville swung the blade and intercepted Nagini as she sprang, taking her head clean off. Snape heard Voldemort's cry of anguish as his final Horcrux was vanquished in a dark swirl of dissipating magic, but all he could think was, '_Oh for Merlin's-... First I'm saved by a bird, and now _Longbottom_? I've been rescued by _Longbottom_?!_' And then Potter's dead body sat up and disappeared into the mêlée as fighting broke out again. Things were all getting rather confusing, he thought.

Voldemort's furious onslaught drove the Order and their allies back into the castle once more, and Snape took great delight in pitting himself against some of the more unsavoury Death Eaters that he'd had the displeasure to work alongside over the years. That scumbag who had laughed as Charity Burbage died was the first - Snape split him open from navel to throat with a particularly vicious Sectumsempra before looking around for his next opponent. Shortly he spotted three Hogwarts girls facing off against Bellatrix Lestrange. He noticed Granger was among them, and while he didn't doubt she was an entirely capable combatant, he felt duty bound to assist. After all, she could have made sure he'd died in that shack, before the bird had a chance to heal him.

'Bella!' He tried to distract the psychotic witch, but she was so crazed she continued throwing out hexes in all directions. Striding over to where she was fighting the trio, he jabbed rapidly in her direction, sending out a multitude of sizzling streams of light, racking his brains for every single malicious curse and hex and jinx he knew. One of Bellatrix's spells grazed Granger's shoulder and spun her around as she cried out and dropped to the floor.

'Not my students, you bitch!' Pushing a powerful freezing spell in her direction, willing it to hit home, a sadistic grin blossomed across his features as it splashed over Bellatrix's body and rendered her immobile. Knowing it wouldn't hold for long, he cast an equally powerful Reductor Curse at her statue-like body, which shattered into a thousand fragments. Voldemort let out a crazed shriek at the sight of his most trusted soldier meeting her end, which made all the hairs on Snape's neck stand up. As the snakelike wizard raised his wand in his direction, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. There were dozens of the finest Order members still standing, and the Dark Lord was now truly mortal once more. Even if Severus fell, somebody else would be able to take Voldemort out.

As the bolt of green light shot towards him impossibly fast, and yet seemingly in slow motion, Snape knew he'd never raise a defence in time. And that was alright...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

'_Protego_!' Snape recognised that voice. In the middle of the Great Hall, between the combatants, Potter emerged from under his blasted Invisibility Cloak - clearly the source of the shimmering Shield Charm that had enveloped Severus just in time as the Killing Curse ricocheted off it.

'For the love of Merlin's-...!' Now _Harry_ _Potter_ had just saved his life! For a man who was having such a good turn of luck, it was a surprisingly shitty way to go about it...

Now Voldemort's attention left Snape and focused purely on his long-time nemesis. As the pair taunted each other, Harry revealed that he himself was the true owner of the Elder Wand, having previously won its allegiance from Draco Malfoy. Snape grinned maliciously at the thought his troublesome Slytherin charge had been good for something after all. Potter glossed over the fact that he knew Snape to be on their side and the reasons why, and for that the older man was grateful. Better to explain quietly to a Wizengamot panel at some point if needs be, than to have all his dirty laundry aired in public. Perhaps Potter _did_ know when to keep his mouth shut after all...

And then it came down to it. The Dark Lord's unending arrogance, driving him to confront his enemies at all costs. The man who wanted to live forever, hastened to his doom by his own efforts to avoid it. As Voldemort's curse rebounded and Potter emerged victorious, Snape allowed himself a small smile. '_For you, Lily_.' But as he turned and started to slip away out of the door and away from the celebrations, a hand tapped him on the back. It was Granger.

'Thank you, sir. For Bellatrix. Dumbledore would be very proud of you, protecting your students.'

'Ah, yes, well... All part of the job, you know.'

'Oh, yes of course!' She shot him an unnerving grin. 'Just like taking on werewolves bare-handed, obstructing Ministry lackeys and Death Eater members of staff, confronting three-headed dogs... I hope Hogwarts teachers get paid handsomely for all their duties.' She laughed lightly. 'I'm surprised they can ever get anyone to take up a position here, quite frankly!'

'Well it seems you are all sorted for a Potions master at least. I saw Professor Slughorn over in the corner with Sybil, so I presume he'll be returning to his job here again next year. He never did really want to retire, if you ask me.'

'Oh!' Granger looked slightly crestfallen. 'Perhaps they have room for two Potions teachers here?' She fiddled idly with the charred gash in her checked shirt sleeve where Bellatrix's narrowly-avoided curse had traced a path. It hadn't caused much damage or she'd had it healed already, he was pleased to note. He'd feared he'd intervened too late in the witches' skirmish.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. 'And how many people, given the choice, do you think would opt for classes with me as opposed to Horace? I may be arrogant at times, Miss Granger, but I'm a realist. I know what people think of me. I took the job here to assist Dumbledore, and that job is done.'

'I would - I think you're one of the best teachers we have! From an academic point of view.' He'd glared at her sceptically, and she turned a faint shade of pink. 'Oh! You're bleeding!'

Severus craned his head down to look at his chest. There was indeed a burn mark on his own tunic and an angry wound beneath it was leaking. Before he could say it was nothing, she'd whipped her wand out and was waving it gently back and forth over his torso. He felt the stretch of skin knitting, and a not-unpleasant warmth spreading from her spell.

'You've got another scorch mark, just...' She leaned up and rubbed his cheekbone with her thumb, ostensibly removing the carbon stain. 'That must have been a close one! Did you take a dose of Felix Felicis today?'

'If I had, Miss Granger, I should hope I'd have managed to avoid nearly becoming an overgrown lizard's dinner!' he shot back at her.

'Well, the operative word there Professor is "nearly".' She was getting disturbingly chatty. In fact this might be the most they'd ever spoken other than regarding the Potions and DADA curriculum. 'Come on, let's sit you down, get you a drink or something.'

'I have a rather good vintage of Ogden's in my office.' She ignored him, instead Summoning a battered-looking goblet from somewhere in the hall and filling it with water.

'Aguamenti. There you go.'

He chose a vacant spot along the back wall behind where the staff table had once stood, and they settled down against the stone. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. After he'd drained the first goblet he held it out for her to refill, which she obliged. Together they watched the other occupants of the hall as they busied about, tending to other wounded people and trying to tidy up a little. Someone had moved Voldemort's body into another room.

'So, Miss Granger... I know there's been quite a few peculiar occurrences in the very recent past, but tell me - do you make it a habit to kiss many dying old men?' Bored now the adrenaline of the battle was fading, he fancied needling someone. An argument was better than silence. He carried on staring straight ahead but he could sense the rush of heat coming off her. Embarrassed - just as he'd thought. It hadn't been anything to do with _him_, merely an outlet for her emotions.

'Only the good-looking ones.' Taken by surprise, he flicked a straggly lock of hair out of his face and turned to regard her but she wasn't looking in his direction, instead staring out at the room, observing the others around them, or pretending to. He thought he caught a ghost of a cheeky smile on her lips though. Playing him at his own game, clearly!

They spent another few minutes in silence, and Snape started to notice a few wary glances being thrown in his direction. At the time of the battle he'd gone unchallenged by any Hogwarts defenders as they'd had other, more pressing concerns, but now the fight was won, there were mutters. Clearly having had the Dark Lord personally try and kill him twice wasn't sufficient evidence for some people that he was on their side and to be fair, he had played his part well. Perhaps a little _too_ well, as it turned out.

They both spotted Minerva McGonagall headed warily in their direction. Snape made to stand but Hermione threw out her arm across his chest, stopping him. She looked up at the newly acting-Headmistress, and raised her chin defiantly as she addressed her Head of House.

'I know what you think, Professor, and you're wrong! Everybody was wrong about Professor Snape. He was working for Dumbledore the whole time, you can check with his portrait.'

'Is this true, Severus?' McGonagall looked down her nose sceptically at her former colleague. Upon seeing the tattered state of his robes and his generally dishevelled appearance, her expression softened slightly. Unless he knew a very good sewing spell, it was unlikely that his frock coat would survive Nagini's attack, even though its owner had miraculously pulled through.

He nodded solemnly at her. 'It is. I don't expect you to take my word for it though, I can show you memories of my arrangements with Albus in the Pensieve if you wish. Including the one where he asked me to end his life.'

McGonagall's eyes went wide and started to glisten with forming tears at the mention of Dumbledore's untimely end. 'Very well,' she said finally, 'I have much that needs to be done at present, but we can discuss this more later.' In a slightly more compassionate tone she added, 'I'll have a word with Kingsley when I find him and see if he can liaise with someone at the Ministry. They're in complete turmoil at the moment, but I imagine when they sort themselves out they'll come asking questions of you. You're in rather a mess, Severus. Why don't you retire to your quarters - get yourself cleaned up and a fresh set of robes, my boy?' The corner of her mouth lifted into a tight smile and with that, she swept away to deal with the other survivors who required her attention.

Looking down at the rents and tears in his clothes, Severus shrugged apathetically and poked probingly at his skin underneath. 'Good as new,' he declared, to nobody in particular. 'Phoenix Tears, wish I had a bottle of those - a good Potioneer could make a fortune in the right market.' Looking over at Hermione, who had withdrawn her arm from across him and tucked both her hands protectively between her knees, he nodded out at the throng of people before them. 'Why don't you go and find Mr Weasley? I'm sure you'd much rather be with him than play my nursemaid. Besides, I think other than a good wash and a decent night's sleep, I'm not really in need of further care.'

Hermione smiled sadly at him. 'Ron's left with his family, they've all gone back to the Burrow. Fred... Fred was killed. They've taken him home. I didn't want to intrude, I might go and see him in a day or two though, or send him an owl.'

'I see. Mr Potter, then? If he hasn't gone with Mr Weasley?'

'No, I think I saw him going off with Hagrid earlier though. They're very close, I think they bonded over being misfits. Not that we're not all a bunch of misfits,' she laughed self-deprecatingly. 'I feel a bit guilty, being here you know. Having survived, and having not had any of my family injured or killed.

'Ah, yes, your parents are Muggles. Perhaps you should leave the castle and go and pay them a visit then? I'm sure they're still aware that there are dangerous events afoot in the wizarding world, and would be relieved to have their daughter check in and let them know she's okay.'

Hermione winced slightly. 'Ahh, actually... My parents are in Australia. Don't ask! Let's just say I'm under no particular pressure to visit them soon or anything.'

Snape's eyebrows rose noticeably. 'Fair enough. In that case, I was going to take my leave and get myself freshened up as Minerva suggested. But I was going to fetch my potions kit from my quarters and bring it back up here to see if I can be of any use treating the injured. Perhaps you might accompany me? Fetching the potions, I mean.' _Clumsy, Severus_, he chastised himself mentally. _Try not to accidentally invite a student to bathe with you would you, you dunderhead? Minerva might have given you a pass for blasting Albus off the Astronomy Tower, but she won't go so easy on you if she thinks you're impinging on the virtue of her Gryffindors!_

If Hermione had misconstrued his request then she didn't show it. 'Yes, of course! I expect Madam Pomfrey's rushed off her feet, I'd love to help out any way I can. I was actually considering a career in Healing anyway, so it'd be good to get a bit of field experience, as it were. I've healed minor wounds - some Splinching, uh, a snake bite... I only had Dittany though, I wish I'd had Phoenix Tears myself!'

Snape drained the last of his second cup of water and rose stiffly to his feet. He held a hand out to Hermione who took it tentatively while mostly trying to push herself up. Snape tightened his grip and pulled her upright firmly. So firmly that she almost fell into him once she was up, and had to brace herself to avoid toppling into his chest embarrassingly.

Ignoring any hateful or suspicious stares that still came his way - he'd had a lifetime's practice at letting other people's loathing wash over him - Snape strode purposefully across the hall, out into the corridor and down towards the dungeons. Hermione trotted along to catch him up. They arrived at a doorway Hermione had never been to before, tucked away in the bowels of the castle. Snape pulled out his wand, waved it in a complicated pattern across the entrance, then pushed open the heavy oak door.

'You may come in, Miss Granger.'

She found herself inside a perfectly ordinary-looking stone chamber, indistinguishable from many of the other living quarters at Hogwarts, except this one had a rather unusually large number of books, from floor to ceiling, shelved all across one wall.

'Feel free to help yourself to one for a bit of light reading while I change,' Snape gestured casually at the mini-library. 'Most of them are fairly harmless. Treat anything buckled shut with caution though. I have a few... contentious... titles in my collection. I'd hate for any of them to put you off your love of reading...' And with that, he disappeared into the room beyond, fiddling with the buttons of his coat as he went. Hermione scanned quickly over the spines before selecting one about Legilimency, before nestling into a threadbare wingback chair and opening the cover...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who keeps reading and reviewing! I have been working on the story, I promise! Sorry for keeping you all in suspenders for a bit haha. Have made some very minor linguistic changes to the previous chapters - I have pretty much finished the fic now, just putting the final touches to the 7th chapter and a bit of editing but other than that it should be plain sailing to post the rest :)

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Less than ten minutes later, the door opened again and Snape re-emerged. Hermione looked up, expecting him to be in a rush to collect his potions kit and return to the Great Hall, however she was startled to see him wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Snape seemed to care not one jot about his lack of clothing, and marched through the middle of the room towards another door. Hermione darted her eyes back down to the pages of her book instantaneously, and kept them conspicuously fixed there until the professor was almost out of the room again. At which point curiosity got the better of her and she peeped quickly at his retreating - naked - back.

Through the tears in his tunic, she'd caught a glimpse of his skin beneath earlier, and had seen patches of dark hair against his pale complexion. She'd expected him to be rather hirsute all over, however she saw now that his back was smooth. Hurriedly returning her attention to her book before he caught her ogling him, a shiver of something ran down her spine. He hadn't fully closed the door after him and could hear cupboards and drawers opening and closing, and the swish of fabric as he went through them. A minute or two later and he reappeared once more, this time fully-clothed, albeit slightly more casually than she usually saw him. It was turning into a muggy summer morning and he'd dispensed with his frock coat (perhaps he had only the one, and Nagini had turned it into rags?), and was wearing a plain white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, over black trousers. He was holding a pair of shiny dragonhide boots and made his way back over towards where Hermione sat, leaning back against the desk in the corner while he tugged them on. Standing up straight he looked at her, suddenly all business-like.

'Right, let's get those potions and go.'

Hermione snapped the heavy book shut - she'd genuinely been interested in learning more about the complicated art of Legilimency, but hadn't really been able to take anything in since Snape's unexpected partial nudity - and leapt to her feet enthusiastically. He led her into yet another room off the main chamber which turned out to be his own personal laboratory, where they collected a case full of vials, assorted dried leaves and herbs, stones, and other bits and pieces. Snape rifled through his stores with fevered efficiency, muttering to himself in a low drone as he picked some items and discarded others, handing a selection to Hermione. With arms full, she wondered if he'd consider it cheating if she Shrank some of them to make the load easier, and decided that she'd rather save face and risk struggling.

Supplies collected, they made their way back up to the Great Hall. The corridors were mostly empty - the majority of people were still seeking security in remaining all together, just in case there were any foes still lurking. But Snape seemed to be the only Death Eater in the castle at that moment, and despite him brandishing his wand out in front as a precaution, they went unhindered.

Severus approached Madam Pomfrey, muttering a few instructions to her that Hermione didn't catch, before pressing several bottles into her arms and looking around for anyone he might assist. Mid-way through patching up an injured sixth-year Ravenclaw boy however, he caught sight of an untidy mop of black hair in the crowd and abandoned his charge, absent-mindedly passing a bottle of Murtlap Essence to Hermione to continue their treatment.

'Mr Potter.' It was the first time they'd spoken since Snape had indirectly ushered Harry to his presumed demise in the Forbidden Forest, via his memories.

'Professor Snape. Sir.' Potter had taken on a slightly more respectful tone with him in the past few hours, and the change was mutual.

'Mr Potter, ah... I was wondering... Professor Dumbledore obviously instructed me with regards your mission with the Horcruxes, however-... He also divulged information regarding the Deathly Hallows as well. Forgive me for asking but... did you get them? Did you find them all?'

'Yes.' Harry replied simply, wondering why the professor cared. 'I think that was why I survived. Or maybe it was just the link I had with Vol- with him.'

'Fortunate indeed. I wondered also... I am familiar with the Tale of the Three Brothers-', it had been one of his favourite stories his mother had read from Beedle the Bard when he had been a child, although the object of his interest at the time had been the Elder Wand, to use its power to overcome his disadvantaged upbringing, '-and I know I shouldn't ask it of you, but I couldn't not...' Harry suddenly knew where this was headed. 'The Resurrection Stone... Might you permit me to use it? Just the once?'

Harry felt an immense surge of pity for Snape all of a sudden. He'd risked his life, and spent his whole life fighting for a cause, in a fruitless effort to save his mother, and then to avenge her death and protect her child, with whom he shared a mutual dislike from the get-go. Then he'd had to come to terms with learning that her child must die after all, and then by a miracle Harry had survived! They had both survived. So Lily's legacy had been honoured, and yet what did that leave Severus Snape, in the end? He had no family, a job he'd only taken to provide him cover... And now it was all over. And Harry knew what he wanted. What he was asking. And he was torn between wanting to oblige that one thing, and at the same time, selfishly keeping his precious gift to himself.

'I'd like to help you, Professor,' the boy started. 'I owe you my life, as do a lot of other people here I reckon. And I'm eternally grateful for everything you've done.' Snape inhaled deeply in anticipation. 'But I'm afraid I can't help.' Snape's chest deflated in a sudden whoosh. 'I dropped it in the Forbidden Forest you see, before I- before I went to him.'

'Ah.' Snape's posture stiffened, crushed by the denial but attempting to brush it off. 'Good. No matter. Probably for the best - I thought I might ask, but I understand. It was a purely selfish request anyway. Thank you, Potter.' And with that, he nodded brusquely, turned and headed back towards where he'd left Hermione with his potions supplies.

Harry watched him go, running his thumb over the engraving on the smooth stone in his pocket and wondering if he'd made the right choice, before deciding that he had. Snape didn't need to see his mother - he'd realise that maybe, in time.

* * *

A ball of anguish was building in Snape's chest as he turned from Potter. Frustration at the unfairness - the boy who had never really known his mother had been able to be reunited with her, while he, who had loved her and missed her and repented for twenty years, was denied. Not Potter's fault really, he told himself, but that made him even more bitter. His mind was concocting fanciful scenarios of hunting through the leaf litter in the Forbidden Forest in an effort to find the Stone, but he forced himself to be a little more cool-headed and logical. Dumbledore had never meant for him to have the Stone, and had never even felt himself worthy to wield the Hallow, so who was Severus to say differently?

It still stung though, and as he returned to where he'd left the girl with his potions supplies he made a strangled comment about needing to fetch something else and made a hasty exit from the hall. The lump in his throat felt like it would choke him. Stumbling blindly through the corridors as a sting of salty tears threatened to overflow his eyes, he found himself outside his Potions store cupboard. Letting himself in hurriedly, he slammed the door shut and leant back against it, his breathing ragged.

* * *

Hermione had seen Snape wind his way through the Great Hall in pursuit of Harry, and was curious as to what it was the two wizards spoke about. Whatever it was clearly upset the Potions master despite his best efforts to hide his emotions, as moments later he was headed back towards her, saying brusquely that he needed to go and fetch some ingredient or other, and doing a disappearing act.

She felt a great deal of sympathy for Snape - he seemed to be mostly a victim of unfortunate circumstances, who had made a few bad choices in life and spent an awfully long time paying for his mistakes. Perhaps if he'd had a little more kindness in his life then history might have played out rather differently. The past was the past (Time-Turners notwithstanding), but that didn't mean the future had to play out in the same vein. With no other people around with whom she was close, and felt she could be around in the aftermath of the battle, she found herself gravitating towards the tortured professor. After she finished treating the injured sixth-year, Hermione made her excuses to Madam Pomfrey before leaving the hall in search of him.

She felt a man as regimented as Snape was something of a creature of habit - he'd be likely to go somewhere familiar and comfortable in times of upset. The Astronomy Tower, while offering a view that was fantastic for clearing the head, would almost certainly not be Snape's first choice for a quiet spot to contemplate. Too wild, too open, and too many bad memories given that that was where he had been forced to help euthanise Dumbledore. Somewhere underground then. Hermione headed towards the dungeons, poking her head into the first door which was an empty classroom. Somewhere more private perhaps. As she passed by the door to the store cupboard, she heard a sharp sniff and intake of breath from within, as if someone inside was trying very hard to stop themselves from bursting into tears.

Stepping up to the door, she knocked very quietly, so as not to startle him. 'Professor?' she called softly. 'Professor Snape?' Receiving no reply, the noise from inside the storeroom had ceased. Persisting, Hermione turned the doorknob gently and pushed. She took a couple of steps into the room and saw Snape standing next to the shelf of rat spleens; he drew himself very upright and fixed her with a hard blank stare.

'Miss Granger? May I be of some assistance? Did you need my help with your patient?'

'No sir, he's fine. Or he will be. I actually came to see if... to see if you were okay?' She shot him a tiny apprehensive smile.

'Why wouldn't I be?' he clipped at her. 'I'm a lucky man - I survived against all the odds.'

'Oh.' Her smile faltered a little. He was closing down on her again, she could feel it. 'I just thought... You looked troubled, I wanted to see what was wrong, and if there was anything I could do to help at all?'

Severus was not used to having people offer him help or a friendly ear - at least not without expecting something in return. It made him feel even more inadequate and undeserving of her kindness.

'There's nothing _wrong_, Miss Granger,' he told her stiffly. 'There's nothing wrong. I don't _know_ what's wrong! I should be happy - I should be overjoyed, and yet...' At this, he dissolved into great wracking sobs, shoulders shaking silently. Hermione's heart broke to see him so distraught and inconsolable. She was no great philosopher - she liked facts, and figures, and scientific truths. What could she possibly impart to him about feelings? About dealing with love and loss? But they were both human, and she thought he wasn't so damaged that he wouldn't respond to basic human comfort... Closing the gap between them, she reached out to place a hand on his sleeve. He didn't look up, so she took hold of his other arm as well and spoke softly.

'It's okay, Professor. It's okay for you to feel, well... however it is that you feel. None of us can imagine what you've been through over the years. I can't imagine... Why don't you leave the rest of the clear-up to the others, and just take a bit of time for yourself. I'm sure no one would begrudge you it.'

Snape swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. Hermione looked at him - he'd been barely older than her when he'd been dragged into the first war, and was still a young man by anyone's standards. She wasn't sure if it was due to the fact he hadn't been her teacher for the past year or just seeing him in such an uncharacteristically vulnerable state, but she felt more able to address him on a more equal footing than she'd have ever dared before. The boundaries in their professional relationship had blurred a little. Frankly Hermione had always felt she fitted in better in older company anyway, even as a young girl.

'I'm not sure there's enough time in the world that would permit me to sort through the things in my head, Miss Granger. I almost wish the Ministry would arrive and take me to Azkaban so the choice was out of my hands. I fear I'm not good for much more in this life.'

Hermione tightened her grip on his forearms in a reassuring squeeze. 'With all due respect, don't be daft Professor - you're a great wizard! One of the best!'

At this, he finally tipped his head up to regard her, his hair hanging limply, framing his gaunt features. Hermione'd barely had time to notice how he'd changed since she'd left Hogwarts the previous year. His dark eyes appeared hollow, framed by equally dark circles. He eyed her sceptically, untrusting.

'I'm a _teacher_, Miss Granger.' He almost spat the words out. 'A glorified babysitter! I'm a middle-aged man teaching Swelling Solutions to twelve-year-olds. Nothing special.' He scoffed in derision and broke away from her grasp, raking a hand back through his hair frustratedly.

'Do you really think that little of yourself?' Hermione put her hands on her hips, annoyed with and for him. 'You really can't see what other people see? What I can see...'

Just as he was about to say that he knew what people saw when they looked at him - a murderer, a coward, a traitor - he opened his mouth to retort only to have Hermione plant her lips squarely against his. After a beat or two when his brain had caught up with what was happening and was deciding whether to push her away or return the embrace, she broke off the kiss, looking up at him expectantly, eyes shining. Yet another cruel joke played on him by life, he told himself.

'Miss Granger,' he began. 'I shall excuse your behaviour due to the extenuating circumstances of recent events.'

Her face fell abruptly. 'I wasn't-... I didn't-... I thought-...' She floundered.

'Yes, well...' He folded his arms across his chest, blocking her out. 'Your emotional overflow from the battle is sorely misplaced. I suggest you get yourself back to the Great Hall forthwith.'

Her mouth moved silently for a second or two as she searched for a reply, before she turned on her heel and bolted from the storeroom, swinging the heavy door shut behind her with an anguished slam on the way out.

Satisfied that her reaction had proven his assessment right, Snape angrily turned to the shelves of jars and started hunting for Wiggenweld Potion ingredients, before sweeping back to his rooms and engrossing himself in brewing, where he wouldn't be disturbed by anyone else trying to kiss him out of guilt...

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry, another one! I didn't originally have most of the paragraph where Harry touches the stone after refusing Snape - I ended it at the word "pocket". I was umming and ahhing after the direction the scene took whether to cut it or not, but I thought it made him look like too much of a jerk to not include it lol! And while Harry can certainly be a jerk at times, it's not his defining feature. It looked nice and short and snappy before I added the rest, but I didn't like the tone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

While a lot of the students and other survivors from the battle had chosen to leave the castle and go home to their families, there were still many who remained over the next few days, either because they had nowhere else to go, or because they were helping with the restoration efforts. Hermione was one of those, on both counts. Hogwarts' magic made simply putting the castle back together a challenging task, as it was difficult to determine either exactly how the charms had held the building in place to start with, or which ones needed to be recast. Headmistress McGonagall and a couple of the other professors were the only people she really spoke to during that time, she hadn't caught much more than a glimpse of Snape since she'd fled his stores though. He didn't often eat in the Great Hall, didn't join in with the main repair efforts; instead ensconcing himself in his quarters with his cauldron, only really coming out to deliver potions to the hospital wing before returning to his self-imposed incarceration.

If he bumped into her coming down a hallway and there was no side corridor to duck into, he walked past looking dead-ahead as if she weren't there, while her face burned. She was caught between wanting to keep catching sight of him now and again, and wanting to avoid him as much as he seemed to want to avoid her. She'd overheard McGonagall talking to Professor Sprout, saying that Snape had made no complaint about returning to the dungeons. His sacking had been rather unlawful now the truth had come out, however he had apparently argued that his appointment to the position of Headmaster had been equally unlawful in the first place, and had happily deferred to the Head of Gryffindor, conceding the duties of running the school to her.

Harry had gone to join the Weasleys at the Burrow after a couple of days and nobody had begrudged him, however Hermione had turned down Molly's invitation. Her relationship, such as it was, with Ron had taken a slightly odd turn of late, and she hadn't wanted to intrude on the household when everyone was in mourning in case it had made things awkward. Apparently her own emotions weren't to be trusted at this point in time, and she didn't want to do anything rash that might be misconstrued in the current fraught climate of celebration and sadness. She'd sent an owl with a card of condolence and some flowers.

The other uncomfortable quasi-relationship, between her and Snape, also continued to be awkward. She hadn't wanted to go crying to him, begging his forgiveness if her actions had upset him in some way, but neither could she keep going with the situation as it currently was. Even when she didn't see him it kept niggling away at her and wouldn't let her rest. Eventually she gave herself a stern talking-to in the dormitory one morning, inhaling deeply and letting out a long, slow breath as she steeled herself. _What's the worst that can happen, _she thought. _He already hates you anyway._ She resolved to go and find him and clear the air, or at least put across her feelings on the matter. Perhaps she might be able to avoid imposing herself on him this time now she was thinking with a clearer head.

Her plans were derailed however. Snape was, unusually, in the Great Hall for breakfast – the House Elves had returned to their catering and cleaning with great gusto after taking part in the battle for the castle and were outdoing themselves taking care of the surviving witches and wizards who remained. However as she finished a rather delicious omelette and her plate vanished, the hall doors swung open.

In stepped four wizards in long trench coats, wands at their sides, and Hermione realised with a sinking feeling that they were Aurors. They made their way silently up the middle of the hall past the replaced house tables, while the handful of occupants stared at them. The quartet made their way up to the dais where McGonagall and her colleagues sat at the staff table. One of them stepped forward and spoke to her in a low murmur, his gaze flitting to the side now and again as he talked. Hermione couldn't hear what McGonagall said in reply but she looked fairly disgruntled at their intrusion. Snape, sat next to her, was gritting his jaw and steadfastly refusing to look at the Aurors, instead hunched over, concentrating pathologically hard on sawing his own omelette into tiny pieces with great venom.

So the Ministry had finally sorted out the mess it had found itself in after Voldemort had fallen, and had come to catch up with the alleged Death Eater in their midst... Snape had of course proven his loyalty to Minerva beyond a doubt after the dust had settled from the fighting, and the Headmistress had been only too glad to welcome the young professor back into her fold, feeling remorseful over how he'd been treated when they'd believed him a traitor. She'd also had stern words with Dumbledore's portrait ("How could you make him do it, Albus?") But the Ministry of Magic was, as usual, ten steps behind everyone else. Quite frankly, Hermione was surprised they'd even realised Snape was still alive!

At some point the Aurors and the Headmistress stopped conversing, and there was a brief pause before Snape stood, scraping his chair back and rising stiffly to his feet. Yet another public indignity he had to suffer, Hermione thought to herself. Perhaps she really did only feel some sort of affection towards him out of pity? She'd hoped she wasn't that shallow though.

The Potions master followed the Aurors out of the Hall in stony silence. The four appeared to look to each other as if unsure whether their charge required restraining in some way, but his look of weary resignation must have reassured them. Hermione tried to catch the Professor's eye as he passed in order to shoot him a morale-boosting empathetic smile, but he met nobody's gaze. The hall doors closed with a heavy thud behind them and Hermione looked anxiously up at Minerva, who smiled reassuringly back at her, obviously convinced that Severus would be capable of proving his innocence to the Ministry in a satisfactory manner.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of him being sent to Azkaban and perhaps spending twelve years or more unjustly incarcerated there like Sirius had done, but without the luxury of having an Animagus form to take refuge in from the Dementors. If he wasn't already a broken man after all he'd endured, she thought that might finish the job. She'd seen images in Snape's own DADA classes of victims of the Kiss, and while she couldn't honestly say he was always the most pleasant of people to be around, the idea of him slumped in a cell, a soulless husk devoid of his intellect and wit and fire, was a horrible thought.

On the fourth day of Snape's absence, Hermione couldn't take it any longer and was on her way to the Headmistress's office, to see if she'd had word from the Ministry about the professor's situation. As she arrived at the door however, it opened and McGonagall exited, accompanied unexpectedly by the very man she had come to enquire about! McGonagall beamed warmly at Hermione upon seeing her. Snape remained stony-faced as ever.

'Ah, Miss Granger!' purred the headmistress. 'What can I do for you? Was it to do with your request to return next year to finish your NEWTs?' Unseen by either of the women, Snape raised his brows and rolled his eyes a little, simultaneously.

'Um, no Professor. Actually, I was just coming to see if you'd heard anything about Professor Snape. But that's just answered my question I suppose.' She made to leave. Minerva patted Severus on the back jovially and slipped past him out of her office.

'Just released from the Ministry this morning! They took their time as usual, typical quill-pushers! Even worse now than when I used to work there,' she trilled. 'Although now they've appointed Kingsley as acting-Minister for the time being, hopefully things will start to improve! I'll leave you in Severus's capable hands then - I'm afraid I have to dash over to greenhouse two and see Pomona about replacing some of the Venomous Tentaculas that were destroyed in the fighting. She says we may need a Ministry permit for importing fully grown plants rather than seed pods, although I wondered if Hagrid might have a contact we could use to bypass some of the tedious paperwork...' And with that, she bustled off down the corridor and out of sight.

Both Snape and Hermione looked rather uncomfortable at being suddenly left together in the hallway, their previous strained encounter obviously still at the forefront of their minds.

'So,' she began hesitantly. 'You finally managed to convince them you were innocent after all then?' She offered him a wan smile.

Snape scowled darkly at her. 'I am many things, Miss Granger, but "innocent" is not one of them. I have however, convinced them of my loyalties, and they have exonerated my name and are content to continue granting me my freedom. Such as it is.'

Perhaps he didn't think much of their generosity at leaving him to live out his days "teaching Swelling Solutions to twelve-year-olds", as he'd disparagingly described his career to her so recently. Or perhaps he just didn't think he deserved to be a free man.

'Does that mean you'll be back here teaching again then, sir?'

Snape inhaled deeply, as if mentally bracing himself. 'As it happens, Professor Slughorn has asked Minerva if he might go part time and semi-retire again. So there is a vacancy to fill in the Potions department, should I want it.' Almost as an afterthought he added, 'Did I hear Minerva say that you are also returning next year?' _"Swot"_, his tone of voice seemed to say accusingly.

Bristling slightly at his manner, Hermione put her hands on her hips and shot back, 'Yes, actually. So I think if we're both going to spend another whole year at Hogwarts together, we should probably sort out our differences!'

Snape looked up, an expression of mild surprise on his features, as if he were either entirely unaware of such an issue, or was astonished that anyone would want to remedy it when they could quite happily go on glaring at each other in the corridors in perpetuity. Seeing that she was quite serious about what she'd said though, he drew himself up and cleared his throat.

'You've spent the last seven years perfectly content to loathe me and the ground I walk on, all of you. I don't see why one small revelation makes any difference to how I'm viewed and treated going forward - I have not changed as a person. And what's more, neither have you - you're an incorrigible dreamer, Miss Granger. How _wonderful_ it must be to drift through your fantastical world where everything is good and right and just, or can easily be made so. It may have escaped your attention-...'

Hermione cut him off with an indignant splutter. 'Yes, well...! The world is as good as we make it - surely you of all people should appreciate that! I just think that bravery like you showed should be recognised properly by the people you helped protect, that's all. There's just no need to carry on being such a misanthrope with no vision for the future!' She finished with a gasp, both out of breath from her rant, and worried she'd overstepped the mark with him again.

Snape's eyes narrowed to black slits and he leaned in close, his voice dangerously smooth and quiet. 'Give it up, Miss Granger. I don't know why you're so insistent on trying to make me your pet project but I can tell you now, that associating yourself closely with me, even in a professional capacity, will do your reputation and career no good at all.'

'Since when would you care about my _reputation_?! And for that matter, in all the years you've known me, when have I ever given you the impression I'm bothered about what other people think of me either!'

Ignoring the fact that her question was probably meant to be rhetorical, he retorted slightly meanly, 'Well there was that time you turned yourself into a cat, I believe... I seem to recall you being a _little_ ashamed then...' A satisfied smirk spread over his features - while he hadn't seen her failed Polyjuice transformation personally, he'd gotten all the gory details from Poppy Pomfrey in the staffroom later. For professional purposes only of course, being the resident Potions master and all... Hermione however, had matured more than he was aware during the previous year or so, and with a fresh outlook on her priorities in life, was far less insecure about either her looks, or any academic failings that had befallen her, and only too willing to exchange verbal blows when under attack.

'Oh yes, of course – because a wizard who invents a hex to make people's toenails grow is at the very _height_ of intellectual achievement...' she hissed back at him, equally viciously. Unfortunately for Snape, Hermione had paid rather more attention to the Half-Blood Prince's dodgy spells than either Harry or Ron would have guessed. 'You're just a man, Severus Snape, despite your best efforts to seemingly get people to view you as something less than human. I see what you've done - what sort of man you are. And I think you're brilliant. You weren't a coward during the war, so don't be one now! You deserve to live a decent life from now on. Even if you don't think you do.'

Eventually she seemed to run out of breath again. Staring at her, unmoving, Snape appeared momentarily perturbed by her words. Some of the earlier hardness seemed to have slipped from his gaze though.

'Ah, so your recent amicability towards me is just for noble reasons of altruism and compassion then? You were struck by my plight in the Shrieking Shack and wish to _ease my suffering_.'

Hermione wasn't entirely sure whether he was mocking her caring nature - her past philanthropic efforts to recognise house-elves were widely known throughout the school, for example - or if there was just a subtle hint of something else in his voice... Disappointment? This discussion was going to go on forever, she thought. He imagined she was befriending him out of pity, and she was too stubborn to want to let him slink back into the dungeons for another twenty years of misery and self-loathing!

'Well that,' she said, 'and you are a bit sexy...'

He barked out a sardonic laugh then, which may or may not have been an improvement in the direction of the conversation, she wasn't quite sure.

'Stop, Miss Granger. You're going to quite spoil the serious mood of this argument if you insist on joking.' At least it did seem to have lessened his anger - she was worried with his current spiky attitude it might have wound him up further. He seemed amused at her, in a detached sort of way; at the apparent absurdity of what she'd said. Clearly someone else who had grown up a victim of low self-esteem, that he would never consider it a serious comment. Or want to. It seemed to have put him on the back foot a little.

'Who said I was joking?' Hermione looked him dead in the eyes. 'Tall, dark and handsome; enigmatic inventor; soldier; spy. That sounds like a thrilling skillset any great literary hero would be proud of...'

'_Tragically_, Miss Granger, I don't find myself the star of a romantic novel. I think you read too much, although I'd never have placed you as a fan of tawdry fiction? I imagine when you kissed me in the shack it was something of a let-down - that I didn't spring to my feet and confess my undying love for you?'

He was being deliberately mean now, more than usual; trying to prod, to goad, to drive her away in a fit of pique. And for a moment it seemed to him to have worked. She drew in a sharp intake of breath, and tears started to pool in the corners of her eyes. Then suddenly she lashed out, whacking him on the arm with a slender hand, surprisingly strong. He was caught completely unawares by her reaction and didn't move to intercept her blow.

'I thought I was watching you _die_, you bastard!'

'You'd be the only one who cared.'

'Well apart from that being patently untrue, so what? Caring about people isn't a weakness, it's a sign of strength. To let people in, to form attachments; sometimes to let them go, to mourn. It's all part of life, of developing as a human being. I _cared_ about what happened to you, and nothing you can say or do will change that – so there!'

Her frizzy hair gave her a slightly manic look, and Snape tried not to be taken aback by the ferocity of her reply.

'Do please desist from making a spectacle of yourself. Misery is a vintage that's much more becoming on me than you, Miss Granger. Perhaps in time, you'll learn that some people are a lot more deserving than others in this life.'

'The world's not split into good people and Death Eaters you know. You've proven your true colours I'm afraid, and we like what we see. I like what I see...' She blushed a little at her admission. _In for a penny, Hermione_, she told herself. 'And by the way, what if I wanted to associate myself with you in a more than professional capacity. Or perhaps _less_ than professional...? She looked coyly up at him.

If she had really overstepped the line, she could always finish off her NEWTs in Beauxbatons – she'd spent a lot of time in France on holiday with her parents over the years, and she'd struck up a fair friendship with Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour as well. Perhaps Hagrid might even put in a good word for her with Madame Maxime if she were to apply for a place there... Once again though, Snape looked almost amused. She thought instinctively of a cat, toying with its prey.

Perhaps he'd run out of energy to care. Perhaps he decided he couldn't spend the rest of his life running from people, shutting them out. But his lip curled in a devilish smile. Why not call her bluff. What more was there to lose?

'You really are the most _incorrigible_ flirt, Miss Granger.' he spoke slyly, still cautious. 'I don't recall you being particularly... promiscuous... during your time at Hogwarts previously. My, how you've changed from when you first arrived here! Still offering up unprompted wisdom though I see...'

'I'm not promiscuous!' she exclaimed. 'I can't believe you'd think I was that shallow! And you can stop sneering - you don't intimidate me you know.'

'Likewise,' he replied instantly. 'I can't for one minute think of a good reason why a witch such as yourself would be the slightest bit interested in fraternising with someone such as myself. Rather a waste if you ask me.'

'Well I didn't,' she replied. Adding matter-of-factly, 'And I hardly decided to find you attractive on purpose...'

'I'm well aware that I am not an easy man to get along with. It's something I make no apology for.' He watched for her response.

'I don't want "easy",' she replied. And then in a smaller voice, suddenly vulnerable for the first time, 'I want "interesting".'

For a second they just stood there staring at each other. Snape's mind whirred, wondering if she meant what he thought she did - if she meant what she said. It was true, what she'd said earlier: he was no coward. But he hadn't prepared for life after war. He hadn't expected to survive; there was no game plan for the future ahead. He wasn't scared of the possibilities that lay before him, but they were all total unknowns. In a way, he'd been glad to be able to return to the drudgery of teaching Potions - he was on familiar territory, if not the most exciting. But instead, taking the seemingly safe option seemed to have thrown up a new, less-safe one. Still, she just wasn't going to let it drop, so the only way out was to test her and see.

'Congratulations, Miss Granger,' he rumbled. 'I'm the most _interesting_ wizard here at Hogwarts...' And with that, he dipped his face swiftly to hers and caught her in a searing kiss, thrusting a hand into her hair to grasp the back of her head and pulling her hard to him. He vaguely registered her letting out a small squeak of surprise and wondered when the slap would come, but instead he felt her lips start to move against his enthusiastically in return. She surprised him a few moments later when he felt her tongue tentatively slip into his mouth, but he just grunted at her between breaths, 'You won't change me, you know.'

Hermione, who had grasped the sides of his robes in her hands in order to pull herself closer to him, smiled into his passionate embrace and murmured, 'I know... I don't want to. Only you can do that... And you already have anyway.'

Hearing movement in one of the adjoining corridors, the couple broke apart. Snape's dark gaze scrutinised Hermione, who was flushed and smiling bashfully at him. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest in a mixture of nerves and thrill.

'You're going to be trouble, I can tell,' he told her.

'You like trouble,' she quipped back. 'You wouldn't want a boring life now, would you Severus?' Stretching up towards him on tiptoe, she placed a tentative kiss on his lips, ducking back down before he could decide whether to capture her in another clinch or not. His chest rumbled in a deep chuckle.

'Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. For your cheek.'

Waving his hand through the space between them, he conjured a spray of small white flowers, delicately tinged with pink. He plucked it carefully from the air and handed it to her. She accepted the flowers, studying the oval leaves and holding them to her nose briefly.

'Apple blossom?'

He nodded at her. 'It means-'

'It means "better things to come".'

He cleared his throat. 'Indeed. I'm glad that at least _someone_ was paying attention to my lectures on the importance of Floriography in Potions.'

'You're not getting all sentimental on me already, are you?'

'Not at all! I...' He saw she was suppressing a giggle and cocked an eyebrow at her disapprovingly. 'Like I said: "trouble".'

Neither of them saw the silver tabby cat peering around the corner, staring intently at their exchange. It gave the closest thing a cat could give to a smug smile and with a swish of its tail, turned and slunk away down the corridor, purring to itself.

'Right, well I have to go and do some very tedious paperwork for Minerva with regards to taking up the position as Potions master again.' He bent his head stiffly and pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head. 'I'll see you at lunch?'

'Mmmhmm. I'm glad you're back, I missed you. I'm glad you're not in Azkaban.'

With a look that suggested she better not start getting all mawkish on him, he reluctantly concurred. 'I'm glad I'm not in Azkaban either. Now go on! Minerva told me Poppy could still use a hand in the infirmary at the moment - I'm sure she'd be more than glad to have your expertise to assist her.'

Turning away, he strode down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons. Hermione sighed and started to head towards the hospital wing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

She'd tried not to spend too much of lunch staring up at the top table, watching him, but it had been hard. After a couple of surreptitious glances at Snape she noticed that Professor McGonagall was watching _her_, and hurriedly averted her gaze back to her soup and bread roll. Technically she wasn't his student, and she was of-age anyway, but she still didn't want to get him into any trouble. Plus he was quite a private man, and doubtless wouldn't thank her for being indiscreet about their... relationship. Whatever it was. She wasn't going to push him though. They'd both lived under enough pressure lately that she thought it would be a good idea to just go with the flow and see what happened.

That evening, she retired to the Gryffindor common room as she'd used to. The routine comforted her slightly. There was no-one else in the dormitory - all the other girls in her year had left the castle, with the exception of Lavender Brown, whose body had been buried on the grounds with the other casualties. She stayed up late, reading an old Charms book someone had left lying around on one of the armchairs, before admitting to herself that she wasn't really in the mood for studying, and retiring to bed.

'_No_!' She woke with a start, unsure as to whether she'd been asleep for five minutes or several hours, her heart thumping and her forehead sweaty. She'd had a dream of sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, when the doors opened and in swept Lord Voldemort, flanked by Bellatrix Lestrange and a host of bloodthirsty creatures, all headed straight for her. Lighting a lamp on the bedside, she sat up, hugging her knees comfortingly. After the best part of half an hour, she still didn't feel settled enough to try and go back to sleep again. '_Don't be silly, Hermione. It's just a dream. But... perhaps he's struggling with the trauma of the battle too?_'

Slipping out of bed and down the spiral staircase, Hermione padded out of the portrait hole and through the darkened corridors, only a tiny pinpoint of light at the end of her wand. She wound her way down to that unfamiliar door in the dungeons, and hesitated a second before rapping very quietly on the door.

'Come.' He answered her knock straight away. Hermione pushed open the door and slipped tentatively into the room. Looking around, she spotted Snape, sat at his desk, still in full frock coat and robes. 'Are you alright?' he asked, looking up from his book.

'I... I couldn't sleep. I mean- I did fall asleep, but I-...'

'I see.'

'You're up late.'

'I couldn't sleep.'

'I wondered... I thought...' She suddenly felt rather foolish. They'd shared a couple of kisses - only one where Severus had been a willing participant really. What made her think he would want to provide her comfort at night? He'd think she was just a silly girl and-...'

'You'd better come on through then.' He closed the book softly, standing and stretching after hours hunched over. Hermione heard bones crack from across the room. In a few quick strides, he'd crossed to the room he'd gotten changed in on the morning of the battle. Pushing the door open, he gestured into the bedroom. 'Be my guest.'

Hermione timidly slipped past him. Not ostentatious, but decorated in the same stately manner as the rest of the castle, there was a large four-poster bed in the middle of the room, draped in Slytherin green blankets. He clicked his fingers and a pair of wall sconces flared into life, throwing the room into an eerie, flickering relief.

'I can sleep in the chair.' He turned to leave. Hermione called to him.

'Please! I don't want to impose. I'd hate to think of you out there all uncomfortable.'

He pursed his lips at her. 'Well, I suppose it is a very large bed for one person. Ridiculous really. Say what you like about Albus Dumbledore, but he made sure his staff were well-catered to. Very well, I shall take one side.'

Hermione sat at the ends of the mattress, which was very firm and barely dipped under her weight. Snape had started unbuttoning his coat and had shucked it onto a nearby chair before starting on his shirt buttons. Hermione lifted the blanket and slipped under the covers, watching him, but trying not to look like she was watching him. She wasn't sure how much interest it would be appropriate to pay in a circumstance like this. He clearly wasn't bothered about being observed in a state of undress, as he'd walked around half-naked in front of her in his quarters well before she'd made her intentions towards him clear. Was it rude to stare, or would he be insulted if she didn't try and sneak a peek?

Once he'd stripped down to his underwear - black, naturally - Snape approached the bed and lifted his side of the covers, sliding under sinuously. Hermione was in a pair of pink pyjamas she'd "borrowed" from one of the other Gryffindor girls, who'd obviously left them behind when packing. Another snap of his fingers and the wall lights were snuffed out.

'Show-off,' she quipped at him in the dark.

'Guilty.'

'I like it.'

'That's good. Because you don't have much choice in the matter.' His deep voice rumbled at her. 'Go to sleep.'

'Yes sir,' she told him sarcastically. There was a moment of awkward silence as they both lay there in the dark, two feet apart.

'Hermione?'

'Yes?' She didn't breathe.

'Please don't call me that.'

'Oh! I didn't mean...'

'I know, I just...'

'I don't think of you as my teacher, you should know that. I'm not interested in you because of your status.'

'I know...' He seemed unsure.

'I don't care about any difference in age - we're both adults. I just like _you_.'

'Well, there's your first mistake.' Pleased that he was joking again, she rolled over towards him, unable to make out his features in the dark.

'It's a bit cold in here.'

'It's the dungeons. Cast a Warming Charm.'

'I left my wand in the other room.' He sighed. 'Would you hold me?' In truth, it was almost just as cold in Gryffindor Tower sometimes, but she wanted the comfort.

'Very well.' She heard him scoot towards her across the mattress, then felt his knees bump her shin. A wiry arm slipped over her shoulder and gripped tight. 'Better?'

'Much.' She was sure she'd sleep right through the night with him there to protect her. 'Thank you.'

He grunted at her. 'Mmm.'

Resting her head against his pale chest, Hermione curled into him. She could hear his even breathing, and tried not to annoy him with her own. A strand of hair tickled her face but she wasn't sure whose it was. She tried to stay awake for a short while, frightened of disturbing him if she had another nightmare, but she was so tired it wasn't long before she slipped into unconsciousness.

Severus wasn't far behind her. He'd been trying to stay awake in case he'd had another nightmare and disturbed her, but the feel of her warmth, and the sound of her soft breathing lulled him more than he'd anticipated and he too, soon drifted off. As he'd been undressing earlier, he'd contemplated catching her eye and trying to perform Legilimency on her, to try and get a bit of a read on the depth of her feelings for him, but had ultimately chosen not to. It was going to be fun finding out the Muggle way, he decided...


End file.
